


Testing, Testing

by dreamweavernyx



Category: Hey! Say! JUMP
Genre: AU, F/F, Fluff, Genderswap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-25
Updated: 2012-12-25
Packaged: 2017-11-22 10:18:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/608745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamweavernyx/pseuds/dreamweavernyx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It takes courage to acknowledge love and to give up on love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Testing, Testing

**Author's Note:**

> Quote at the end is from _Haven’t Had Enough | Marianas Trench_.
> 
> I changed the names only for those who didn’t have unisex names. ‘Hikaru’ can be read as ‘Hikari’, ‘Kei’ is pretty much unisex (in my opinion), and ‘Yuya’ became ‘Yuka’. 
> 
>     八乙女 光 (Yaotome Hikari)  
> 伊野尾 慧 (Inoo Kei)  
> 高木 ゆうか (Takaki Yuka)

Yuka loves her job at the café.

Kei always says that smiling non-stop for eight-hour shifts and wiping tables isn’t a particularly exciting job, but Yuka’s just glad she can still earn _something,_ despite dropping out of high school.

The bell above the door tinkles, and she looks up.

 _Speak of the devil_ , she is tempted to say, but clamps her mouth shut as Kei waves at her.

“What’s this I hear about a break-up?” she stage-whispers, marching right up to Yuka. “I want all the details!”

Yuka winces – the memory of a tall brunette boy with a wide smile is still painfully fresh in her mind.

“Like I’d tell you anything about my relationship with Miura,” she mutters, rolling her eyes. “If that’s all you came for then you had better scram before I steal your wallet and _make_ you buy something here.”

Kei laughs, examining her new nail art.

“All right, all right. Get me my usual skim milk latte, then,” she says, unfazed. “You’re not getting away, Yuka. I’m dying for gossip, you know!”

“Bimbo,” Yuka shoots back. “I don’t even know how you made it to university.”

The barb holds no malice, and they both know it. Shaking her head, Kei reaches into her tote bag, pulling out a phone with at least fifty different straps hanging off it.

“Hikari says she’ll be popping in later,” Kei calls after Yuka’s retreating figure.

 

They’ve been friends for a long while, Kei and Yuka and Hikari. Nobody understands how they manage to get along, but somehow despite their conflicting personalities, they make it work out.

Kei is a complete bimbo with an acid tongue, yet despite her ditzy image she studies architecture at Meiji University, the only one of the three of them to actually get education past high school. Yuka knows she has at _least_ fifteen different miniskirts and another fifteen more knee-length ones – she’s been with Kei on enough shopping escapades to make a rough estimate.

Yuka, on the other hand, prefers less girly clothes, and most of her arguments with Kei take place at a boutique, mostly involving Kei making Yuka put on skirts shorter than knee-length while Yuka staunchly refuses. (This is the main reason why Hikari never joins either of them when they go shopping, choosing to take refuge in music stores instead.)

Hikari is the most tomboyish out of the three, with dyed blonde hair cropped so short the ends tickle her cheeks, in stark comparison to Yuka’s long brown hair or Kei’s soft, shoulder-length black curls. Hikari doesn’t mind, because she’s in the under-25 football team for their prefecture, and long hair would whip into her face and distract her.

They are three completely different people, but somehow they manage to gel together well.

 

By the time Hikari arrives at the café, sweaty and tired and still wearing her cleats, Kei still has not managed to get Yuka to spill anything about her supposed break-up.

“…Why does Kei look constipated?” Hikari asks Yuka as a greeting, ignoring the way Kei sputters.

“She’s being a busybody,” Yuka laughs. “Your usual cappuccino?”

Before Hikari nods, Yuka has already walked off to fetch her best friend’s usual order – she knows what Hikari wants without even having to ask for specifics.

 

The truth – that Yuka does not want to tell anyone – involves her seeing her ex-boyfriend Haruma going out on a date with another girl from his workplace. They had argued, and she had been the one to call the relationship ‘over’.

Not wanting to dwell on it, she busies herself with cleaning the counter. In her apron pocket, her cell phone vibrates.

_Incoming message._

She flips it open, glances at the screen, and shuts it again, jamming it back into her pocket.

_26 unread messages  
From: Miura Haruma_

 

Hikari hangs around until the end of her shift, then walks her home.

“You don’t have to,” Yuka protests, but Hikari shrugs.

“I live nearby anyway,” she replies, and Yuka can find no fault with that.

They walk in silence, but Yuka doesn’t mind – they’ve been friends long enough that they no longer need to talk with each other every second they’re together.

“What _was_ Kei being nosy about?” Hikari asks after a while of silence.

Yuka bites her lip, and turns away.

“…Forget it,” Hikari says, sensing Yuka’s discomfort. “When you’re ready, you can just tell me, okay?”

Yuka smiles warmly.

“Of course,” she promises. “I trust you more than anything.”

A pleasantly warm feeling bubbles up in Hikari’s heart at those words.

 

Nobody is surprised when Kei shows up with a boyfriend from university. His name is Yabu Kouta, and he coaches the varsity football team.

They send each other mushy messages over the phone, and have long conversations, wherein half of it consists of them telling the other to put down the phone first.

Hikari thinks it’s sickening, and Yuka can’t be bothered to even voice her opinion.

“Does love really make you turn into a mush monster?” Hikari asks curiously. “You aren’t like that even though you’re dating Miura-san.”

Yuka looks away.

“No,” she says at last, softly. “It doesn’t.”

“…So, it’s just Kei being a bimbo?”

“Pretty much.”

As they watch, Kei begins to giggle to Yabu over the phone while admiring her new, glittery pink nails.

They shudder in sync.

 

On Sunday, Hikari and Yuka go shopping at Ikebukuro. Hikari picks up some new score books, while Yuka gets a pair of new jeans.

By the time they have finished walking around and eating dinner, Yuka is already rather sleepy. They take the train back in silence.

Halfway through the ride, Yuka falls asleep, head landing softly on Hikari’s shoulder.

“…Yuka?” Hikari asks hesitantly, poking her best friend in the side.

There is no reply. Letting out a soft breath, Hikari reaches out and tucks a lock of brown hair back behind Yuka’s ear.

She stays perfectly still for the rest of the ride back.

 

“I think I should set you up for some group dates,” Kei says idly, studying Hikari over her strawberry cheesecake.

Hikari blinks dumbly.

“…Why?”

Kei stirs her smoothie.

“Think about it. You’re surrounded by men all day at your soccer practice, but you don’t feel anything for them. You’ve become desensitized, and it’s my job to awaken the female side of you!”

Sighing, Hikari eats another forkful of black forest cake.

“Kei, I don’t even know what being in love feels like.”

A pause, then:

“Love is when you feel a tingly feeling just by being with that person, and you always want to see that person smile, no matter what.”

“…Kei,” Hikari says dryly after a while. “You _do_ have your smart moments, after all!”

Screeching indignantly, Kei tries to fling a packet of sugar at Hikari’s forehead.

She misses by a mile.

 

Footsteps.

Yuka curses dark side streets, and begins to walk faster.

A familiar voice calls after her.

“Yuka!”

She freezes, and slowly turns around, breath catching in her throat.

“Miura,” she scowls.

“Yuka, I just-”

 _Empty apologies_ , she thinks, reading the lack of remorse in his eyes.

“Leave me alone.”

She turns away, but he runs forward and grabs her arm in a vice-like grip.

“I’m not dating her, Yuka, honest-”

“Tell me that when you stop kissing her,” Yuka says bitterly. “We’re over, Miura.”

Shock flashes across his face, followed by guilt which quickly smoothes away into a mask of confusion that almost fools her.

“Hear me out-”

“Leave me alone!”

She tries to shake her hand free, but the grip on her wrist is firm and unyielding.

 _Prince Charming, if there was any time to make a timely entrance and save your damsel in distress_ , she thinks frantically, feeling a little stupid, _the time is now._

An attempt to clout him about the head with her bag fails miserably, and she can see him trying to push her against the wall of the side street.

She squints her eyes shut.

She feels his breath on her face and his free hand touch her hair, before he is suddenly yanked off her.

“What are you doing to Yuka, you _creep_?”

Warm relief floods Yuka’s heart, and her knees wobble as she sinks to the floor. Slowly, she opens her eyes.

Hikari is a sight to behold, all furious in blue soccer uniform with strands of blond hair flying as she launches a kick aimed at his most vulnerable area. Haruma grunts and Yuka winces, just a little, as Hikari’s attack downs him.

Sighing, Hikari turns away to face Yuka.

“Let’s go home,” she says quietly, pulling Yuka up.

Yuka nods mutely, and follows behind Hikari as they walk out of the dark side street.

 

“I won’t ask why _he_ was trying to do that to you,” Hikari says once they reach the warm light of the main sidewalk again.

Yuka is quiet, but as they walk past a park she suddenly reaches out and tugs Hikari’s wrist gently.

They are seated side by side on a bench in the empty park before Yuka takes a deep breath, trying to figure out how to phrase the words.

“We broke up,” she says in a tiny voice. “Miura and I.”

Hikari says nothing, but moves her hand to rest on top of Yuka’s, prompting her to continue.

“I…I saw him kissing another girl. He never denied it, we argued, and now he comes back full of lies, and…oh _god_ , Hikari, why must love be so…”

She trails off, sniffling a little, and Hikari fishes out a packet of tissues, placing them in Yuka’s hands.

“I don’t know, Yuka,” Hikari murmurs, patting Yuka’s head gently. “I don’t know.”

Yuka buries her face in her hands.

“I don’t know either,” she half-wails.

Hikari can do nothing but hold her tight as she cries.

 

Kei is horrified when she learns what has happened.

“This is a disaster!” she gasps, eyes widening. “Yuka, you mustn’t stereotype all men this way, you hear? That man is a singularity, trust me.”

“Shut up,” Yuka snaps. “There’s no need for you to grasp another opportunity to wax lyrical about your new boyfriend.”

Kei wilts, and Hikari rolls her eyes.

“Both of you,” she says evenly. “Stop it.”

There is no more argument after that.

 

Yuka is talking to a short teenager in an apron when Hikari walks into the café.

“Who’s that?” she hisses to Kei, who blinks and looks up.

“Oh, that chibi? Some kid called Daiki, apparently he’s working part time so Yuka has to show him the ropes. She’s not very pleased about it.”

“…I see.”

As Hikari slides into the window seat next to Kei, she feels Kei shoot her a meaningful glance.

“What,” she asks slightly irritably, “do I have a zit on my nose?”

Kei studies her face for a while.

“You do, actually,” she says dryly. “It’s just not on your nose. Your zit isn’t the point – was that _jealousy_ I heard in your tone just now?”

“…No?”

Cackling, Kei pokes Hikari’s nose.

“It _so_ was!” she crows. “Are you jealous of Yuka or of the kid?”

Hikari does not deign this with a reply, but Kei seems to fill in the blanks herself anyway.

“She doesn’t like the Daiki kid _that_ way, I’m sure,” laughs Kei. “You totally have a chance!”

Flushing beet red, Hikari kicks Kei under the table.

“Shut _up_.”

 

Kei, however, is not easily deterred.

Hikari opens her mailbox the next morning to find that Kei has somehow managed to stuff it full of shoujo manga.

She fishes out the Sailor Moon volumes and buries them in a plastic bag to return to Kei, and discovers a couple of Kimi ni Todoke volumes right at the bottom of the pile. There is an obnoxiously pink post-it stuck to one of them.

     _YOU HAVE A CRUSH, I’M TOTALLY SURE OF IT_

Heaving a great sigh, Hikari crumples the post-it and gathers up all the manga volumes, ready to carry back to her apartment to repackage and return to Kei.

She’s fairly sure Sailor Moon isn’t going to teach her much anyway.

 

A couple of days later, Yuka catches a cold.

She doesn’t remember telling anybody this, but somehow Hikari shows up at her doorstep (she has a spare key) with a huge thermos filled to the brim with chicken soup.

“I bet you went running in the rain or something,” Hikari scolds teasingly, as she ladles out clear soup into a china bowl for Yuka.

Sniffling indignantly, Yuka scowls at Hikari.

“I’m not _that_ stupid,” she sighs, but her lips lift a little as she smells the delicious aroma of the soup.

“…Did you cook this?”

Hikari pauses and looks up at Yuka in all seriousness.

“I had my mum watch while I cooked,” she says. “I promise it’s not poisoned in any way.”

Yuka grins.

“Thanks.”

Shrugging, Hikari hands the bowl to Yuka.

“Hurry up and get well, okay?”

“Aww, you’re so _sweet_ Hikari!”

Hikari blushes faintly and looks away.

“…Shut up.”

 

Another week passes by.

“I still think you should confess.”

A sigh.

“Look, Kei. I don’t even think she likes me like that, okay? I’m pretty sure she’s straight…”

Kei snorts.

“I am pretty sure she’s bi, at the very least. You haven’t had the misfortune to hear her ramble on for hours about Koda Kumi, that’s all.”

“That doesn’t prove anything,” Hikari says dryly. “You fangirl BoA.”

With a sniff, Kei takes another sip of her iced latte.

“Suit yourself. You won’t know until you try.”

 

When Yuka walks out of the café at the end of her shift, she sees Hikari waiting for her under a street lamp.

“Why’d you wait?” she calls. “You could have just gone home first, silly.”

Hikari shrugs.

“I like to walk back with you,” she says.

A warm feeling runs through Yuka, and she beams.

“Let’s go home, then.”

 

Yuka loves weekends, because she gets two whole days to do whatever she wants. Today, Hikari’s dragged her out on a two-day trip to Yokohama.

“I can’t wait to ride on the ferris wheel!” Hikari enthuses while Yuka drives the rented car.

Yuka just smiles and nods, listening to Hikari ramble on about nothing in particular.

Somewhere inside her, she suddenly thinks that she would very much like to listen to Hikari’s voice from now on. All the time.

 _I’m being weird_ , she tells herself and frowns. Her grip on the steering wheel tightens a little.

Hikari never notices.

 

They get off at a roadside stop to stretch their legs, and Hikari enters the store to buy them both some ice cream.

Yuka gets coffee, Hikari gets chocolate.

They sit on a metal railing, swinging their legs as they look out at the scenery with the fall wind blowing in their faces.

“I like eating ice cream in fall,” Hikari says. “It feels nice.”

“Mm.”

Hikari’s hand is warm on top of Yuka’s.

She doesn’t remove it until it’s time to get back into the car.

 

They go out of their hotel to the Ferris wheel when night falls. It is a magnificent sight, all bright lights twinkling against the night sky like ever so many stars.

“Let’s go!” Hikari cheers, grabbing Yuka’s hand and running for the ticket booth.

Fifteen minutes later, they are safely ensconced in a cabin of their own, and the Ferris wheel begins its slow ascent up.

They sit side by side, and Hikari looks out at the scenery over Yuka’s shoulder.

 _If only we could continue looking at the scenery like this forever_ , Hikari thinks to herself.

Yuka never notices her slight frown.

 

Yuka gazes out at the city lights, and can’t help but gasp in awe as the Ferris wheel reaches its peak.

“The lights are beautiful, aren’t they?” she breathes, turning to Hikari with her eyes alight.

She sees a turmoil of emotions in Hikari’s eyes, and blinks, confused.

“…Hikari?”

“I like your eyes better,” Hikari blurts, before realizing what she’s said a second later and covering her mouth, horrified.

Yuka, for her part, is mainly confused.

“You…what?”

Hikari’s face is crimson by now, and she just wants a hole to open up somewhere and swallow her up before she dies of embarrassment.

“Aww, Hikari, do you _like_ me?” Yuka asks, grinning teasingly.

“Yes.”

Yuka does not expect an actual answer, so when the serious answer comes she is stunned into silence.

“Wai-what?” Yuka flounders, clearly off-kilter now.

“…I like you,” Hikari mumbles, already imagining a thousand ways to run away as soon as possible and hope Yuka just forgets about everything.

Yuka chews her lip for a bit, then opens her mouth to answer.

“I…”

 

When the cabin reaches ground, they climb out with hands intertwined, fingers interlocking.

“Do you want to go up again?”

Yuka giggles.

“Let’s go get ice cream.”

 

Two girls sit on a railing by Yokohama Bay, swinging their sneaker-clad feet and eating strawberry soft-serve.

Their fingers stay intertwined, hands casually overlapping.

 

_Testing, testing, I’m just suggesting  
You and I might just be the best thing_

 

_fin._


End file.
